Water Clear Lake
by HamletDied
Summary: Wade never believed in the existence of mermaids. The theory of them were just genetically impossible. Every piece of skepticism he has, however, is altered one rainy night in his lake house.
1. Chapter 1

Wade was always skeptical when it came to the existence of mermaids. It never made sense to him that a half fish half person could actually live and breathe under water. Also, they were creatures that granted wishes. That right there was clear evidence that the tales of mermaids were total and complete bullshit. And Wade had no time for bullshit. No matter how much of a bullshitter he really was.

So, of course when he bought his lake house that sat on Water Clear Lake (that actually connected to the ocean) and the landlord told him that there was a mermaid that would swim in that lake from time to time and that Wade needed to be careful, Wade shrugged it off and called the man crazy behind his back.

He had just finished unloading his boxes of important things (which consisted of various types of magazines) when he looked out the window of the house and seen an old, black boat tied up to the dock.

"Huh," he said with a shrug. "Guess I don't have to buy a boat after all." That came as a huge relief for him. Even though he sits on a giant pile of cash (thanks to his job as a videogame tester), boats are still too expensive. He'd rather waste his money on important things-like those magazines. (Ms. February and Mr. Trickydick are really important objects, okay? They really help with calming things down...)

He decided that later on he would check the boat and see if it was any good (if he gets lucky, maybe he'll meet the mermaid). But for now, he's gonna do what he's been dying to do since he got here: eat chimichangas and play video games. He had already set up the 72" plasma, which he'd named Big Bitch, in the livingroom and connected his speakers to it, which had surround sound. God, he loved that surround sound. It was like having an orgasm without masturbating; spine-tingling, loud, and leaving Wade breathless each time. It intensified the play of the game.

With a loud yawn, Wade walked into his new kitchen, which had fully updated appliances like the new Bosch dishwasher, a stainless steel farmer sink, and customized red cabinets and black granite counter tops. Opening up his new freezer (that came with an awesome fridge to match), Wade pulled out a box of frozen chimichangas.

"Oh," he purred. "Y'all are gonna get it tonight."

He quickly grabbed a plate from the cabinet and tore open the box. His mouth began to water with hunger as he dumped the beautiful chimichangas onto the plate and carried them to the microwave to nuke them for five minutes.

As the 'changas, as he like to call them, heated in the microwave, Wade set up his PS4 in the livingroom and and took out The Evil Within. He had just gotten it in the mail last week and it made him so happy because he got it before PewDiePie. Wade loved it when he got games before Pewds. It made him feel like he had authoritative power.

The microwave beeped and Wade sprang up like a man who accidentally sat on a cactus. The enticing aroma of the 'changas spilled throughout the entirety of the lake house, wrapping itself around Wade's stomach and mouth. He felt like he would probably start floating towards the microwave if he were a Looney Toons character. Once he opened up the microwave, the smell of the 'changas hit him hard. His stomach practically roared with the excitement of being fed.

"Hush, Belly," Wade whispered to his stomach. He took out the hot plate of cheesy goodness and hoisted it up in the air.

"TONIGHT," he yelled powerfully, "WE DINE IN ECSTASY!"

Wade ran to the living room and plopped down onto the ground, shoving a 'changa into his mouth. As the 'changa hung from his lips, dripping long strings of cheese onto his lap, he started his game and became sucked in by the fantastic surround sound.

All but the living room was silent, just how Wade liked it. It was just him and the game. No distractions from others. To anyone else, this probably wouldn't be the ideal vision of living life. But to Wade, it was paradise.

He was used to being alone. He's been alone his whole life. He never really had friends. He didn't want to, didn't want to introduce them to his train wreck of a life. No one needed to experience his abusive father with him. He didn't want anyone to become as emotionally damaged as he was, to be as mentally scarred as he was. He knew making this choice wasn't necessarily a good one, especially for his social skills, but it was for the sake of others.

Which is why he chose to be single most of his life. Sure he's had his share of both of women and men as bed partners. But he never went beyond that. He was so mentally damaged from the trauma he experienced as a child that he didn't want anyone to have to deal with his closed-offness. He'd make such an awful lover.

Being alone, he believed, was all he could ever have Over time, he learned to grow accustomed to it. He picked a profession that dealt with very little human interaction and, despite him learning to talk to others, he made sure to live in places that had very little human life.

This was his paradise.

Wade paused his game. Thinking about his loneliness made him wonder where his cynical attitude came from. It didn't take him long to realise the answer: his disgusting father. His father crushed every little thing he loved. From wanting to be a Power Ranger to believing in things like mermaids and aliens, his father crushed it all. So it was only natural that Wade looked at everything with cynicism.

Whenever he'd seen things like pictures of fairies and mermaids, he would instantly shoot down any inkling of belief he had. Even when hearing stories about mermaid sightings, Wade would wave it off. Maybe it was from the fear of his father or maybe it was impossible for him to believe in such things. It's not something he'd like to think on it too much. It would open a box he hasn't touched in years and could potentially throw him into a void that would shatter everything he's built to hold in the little bit of sanity he has left.

So on that thought, Wade pressed the play button and resumed his mission with the characters Sebastian and Joseph.

Wade awoke later on in the night with a sluggish yawn. He blinked away the blurs of sleep and sat up in the darkness of his silent lake house. The only light came from the TV, which shined on Wade's tired features. He checked the time on his game console. 3:15...

"Shit," he murmured. "Got hit with the itis."

He turned the console and Big Bitch off with a tired yawn before crawling onto the couch and urging himself to fall asleep. In the dark and quiet of his home, he could hear the faint sound of the rushing water of the lake and the chirping of nocturnal insects outside. If he listened carefully, he could hear the black boat knocking against the dock.

"Better be careful," he recalled his landlord saying. "I hear the mermaid out here can easily lure men to the dock and drown them in the lake."

Wade scoffed. As if there'd be a mermaid living in the lake. Again, it is completely impossible for a half fish half human to live underwater. Evolution just hasn't gotten that far yet. But why would the landlord say something like that? Maybe...Wade shook his head. No, it's impractical.

Mermaids don't exist and it'll stay that way.

The clouds outside the following afternoon were gray and the wind was slowly picking up. But, that didn't stop Wade from checking out the boat outside. The waves weren't even high yet. He checked around the inside of the boat to see if there was an oar or some type of rowing instrument that he could maneuver it around with. Much to his luck, he found an old black oar at the floor of the boat. He gave woop before climbing in.

Did he know anything about boats? Nope. But today he shall learn. He wanted to become the master at rowing shitty boats across the lake. Maybe, he thought, once he gets the hang of it, he can read his special magazines out on the boat. Nothing can really beat reading those magazines out on a lake all by himself. Mr. Trickydick's ass would clearly compliment the water and accentuate the boat's wood.

Wade untied the boat from the dock. Instantly, the boat began to float away, knocking Wade backwards. When he landed, the force made the boat rock.

"Don't tip the boat, Wade," he mumbled. "Do not tip the boat." He crawled onto one of the two seats and grabbed the oar. He tried to calm down the thumping of his heart as he rowed the boat down the lake. Carefully, it rocked against the surface of the water as the waves slowly carried it across the lake while Wade rowed.

"Okay," he said with a slight nod. "This isn't entirely bad. I could get used to this." He rowed some more, heading towards the middle of the lake. He looked around, taking in the view. Despite it being a shitty day, the lake was beautiful and the woods surrounding it added to the tranquility created by the landscape.

His arms grew tired after twenty minutes of nonstop rowing, so he stopped and placed his head on the edge of the boat. It wasn't until five minutes later that he felt like someone was watching him. It was a nagging pull at his mind that demanded his attention. He could feel a pair of eyes on him from ahead searing into his skin. It was terribly uncomfortable.

_Where the hell is it coming from_, Wade thought to himself. He looked in the direction he felt the gaze strongest. His eyes scanned the area, scraping over the trees and the waves of the water. He saw nothing.

"Dammit," he cursed. "I really don't like being stared down. It makes me feel like a virgin at a brothel." Wade let his eyes sweep over the area once more before giving up.

That's when the wind picked up.

The smell of rain was unbearably strong and the waves were beginning to grow nasty, which was an obvious cue for Wade to leave. So he grabbed the oar and rowed towards his home. As the boat moved, Wade could've sworn he heard a loud splash. But it could've been the waves.

Wade watched the rain smack angrily against the windows of the livingroom as he waited for the cutscene of the game to be over. It was dark outside and the lightning lit up the sky. The wind whistled and pushed the lake water around. Wade wondered how it became so angry outside when it was bright and sunny just yesterday. He hoped the weather here wasn't like this all the time because it would suck not being able to be on the boat everyday. As his attention turned back to the game, the weather outside only grew worse. The thunder and lightning ripped across the sky, the wind howled out in anger, and the rain punched the windows with brute force.

Wade hoped his windows wouldn't break. He really didn't want to pay a repair fee (he knows from experience how bitchy those can be).

Wade was about to face off with the weird wolf creature when out of the corner of his eye through the all the rain and wind, he'd seen something crawl onto the dock.

He paused the game. "What the fuck," he said, moving closer to the window. Despite it being a total shit storm outside, Wade could clearly see the outline of a body on the dock.

"Oh god, please don't be dead!"

He quickly rushed to the front door and took a deep breath before swinging it open. Immediately, he was hit with rain and wind. With a groan, Wade stepped outside, arms over his forehead to protect his face, and slammed his door shut. He made his way to the dock while being pelted with furious drops of rain. As he drew closer, he could see the body laying on its back naked.

He began to wonder who this person was and how they managed to to get on his dock in the middle of the storm. They had to be crazy.

The moment he approached the body, he heard the person groan in pain. Then, as if on cue, lightning crackled and lit up the sky. Through all the rain, Wade saw the perfectly naked body of a boy who had to be at least eighteen at max. Wade still felt bad for blushing.

"Aw shit," Wade cursed when he noticed a cut on the kid's forehead that was leaking fresh blood down his brow. "Hey!" he nudged at the kid with his foot. "Are you okay!"

The kid groaned again as his eyes opened halfway "H-help me..." he said weakly. He turned over onto his stomach and tried to get up but failed. His legs and upperbody wobbled before he fell back down with a hard thud, causing him to cry out in pain.

Wade began to feel bad. The poor kid was obviously injured from his head-wound and its effect was taking a toll on his ability to walk.

"Hey," Wade said, "just, don't move, okay?" He carefully scooped the kid up in his arms, who released another groan of pain. Only then did Wade notice that the kid was trembling.

"I'm innocent..." mumbled the kid before nuzzling his face into Wade's chest and sobbing.

_What the hell is he talking about? _Wade thought as he carried the kid to his house. _And why is he crying?_ He maneuvered the door open and walked in. With a swift kick that closed the door, Wade lead to the couch and carefully dropped him onto it.

Wade felt himself blush again when he saw the full on naked body of the kid. God, why is he such a creep? _More importantly,_ Wade thought, _why is the kid naked?_

The kid cringed before turning over and groaning. Wade shook his head. Now was not the time to be thinking of that fine pair of asscheeks that just exposed themselves to the world. This is a serious matter (but these things knocked Mr. Trickydick right of the ball park and that takes skill).

Wade cleared his throat. "I'm gonna call the police, okay?"

"No!" the kid cried, reaching out towards Wade. "Please," he begged. "Don't let anyone know I'm here." he got up from the couch on wobbly legs and, like Bambi, he fell to his knees and cried.

Wade watched the kid with pity. He wondered why he was so worked up. And why didn't he want Wade to call the police? He's injured for fuck's sake. Doesn't he have family that's worried about him?

"But you're injured," Wade said. The kid only gave a pathetic whine in response. Wade sighed. "Look, I'm not really great with people skills. So if you were looking for emotional support, you came to the wrong lake house."

"Just let me stay here over night, please." The kid looked up at Wade with quivering brown eyes. His brown hair was matted to his forehead and the blood from earlier was now smudged across his brow. He looked so pitiful and him being naked on the floor made it worse.

Wade felt really bad. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Peter," the kid said quietly.

"Well, Peter," Wade said as he walked to where Peter was and helped him onto the couch. "You can stay for a night if you tell me what happened."

Peter sighed and turned to his side. " I was exiled from my home because I was framed."

"Where the hell do you live?" Wade asked. "I didn't even know exile was still a thing."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Wade just looked at him. Peter gave a sad sigh.

"I'll just tell you this: I'm what you call a 'Merman.'"


	2. Chapter 2

Wade felt really bad for laughing. But, how else was someone, such as himself, supposed to handle this? It's not everyday people tell him that they're mermaids and then expect him not to laugh.

Peter cocked his head to the side. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, his eyes wide with confusion.

Wade shook his head, wiping a fake tear from under his eye. "Nothing," he chuckled. "Just, for real? A Merman?" Peter nodded, confused at Wade's actions.

"I'm having a hard time understanding what's so funny about me being a Merman," Peter said, crossing his arms across his naked chest.

Wade cleared his throat, still grinning. "So you expect me to believe that you are a Merman?" Peter nodded again. "How hard did you hit your head?"

The younger boy sighed and looked down, making droplets of water fall from his hair and bloodied forehead . "Look," he said sadly, "I told you the truth. Can I just-can I stay here still?"

Wade nodded with a nervous laugh. "Yeah man. Whatever." He gave Peter a once over, taking in his naked disheveled appearance of lake grime and blood on his forehead from the gash.

"Do you need a shower?" he asked, trying not to sound harsh.

Peter shrugged. "I guess I could. Thank you..."

"No prob," Wade smiled. "You can borrow some of my clothes, too."

Peter nodded in response and sat there on the couch, looking at Wade expectantly.

"Oh!" Wade flinched. "That's right. You need to know where the bathroom is."

Peter nodded sheepishly, looking at the floor.

Wade cleared his throat and asked, "Can you walk or should I...?" When Peter said nothing, Wade took that as his cue to pick him up.

"I'm guessing you're gonna need a bath instead?"

Peter remained silent as Wade carried him to the bathroom. He released a small grunt when Wade sat him down on the toilet in a not so gentle manner.

"Sorry," mumbled Wade.

Peter sat in silence as he watched the older man turn the bath water on. The two said nothing to each other.

Once the water filled the tub, Wade helped Peter into it, making sure to be careful this time. Peter, standing by himself, began to sway and wobble, but managed to stabilize himself and successfully sat down without error. He sighed as the warmth of the water welcomed his naked body and pulled him into its alluring grasp.

"Thank you," he whispered, looking up at Wade through his matted bangs before closing his eyes and resting his head on the wall behind himself.

Wade felt himself blush. "Y-yeah," he stammered. "No problem." He cleared his throat and backed away as he said, "I'll, uh, get you some clothes and a first aid kit." He quickly walked out the bathroom.

He was halfway down the hall when he heard Peter call for him. Wade sighed and willed himself to be strong. Doing a 180, he made his way back to the bathroom and peaked his head into the door.

"Yes, what is-" Wade's eyes grew wide with shock.

Peter looked confused for a brief moment. "What's wrong?"

"T-tail."

Peter looked down. "Oh!"

Reaching all the way to the faucet and curving under it was his long, green tail that he hadn't realised appeared until now. It's shiny scales reflected the light, giving them the appearance of having a rainbow on each individual one.

"Holy. Fucking. Shit," was all Wade had managed to say before fainting onto the red and black tiles of his bathroom.

Peter lay beside Wade on the bathroom floor, trying to figure out what to do. The older man had been out cold for ten minutes now and made no signs of recovering anytime soon. He had tried tapping Wade's face and shaking him by the shoulders, but nothing happened. He couldn't necessarily pick the older man up either due to his weak legs. It'd take him a while to get the hang of them.

He sighed and looked around, waiting for an idea to pop up.

Come on come on. Think...the only thing around is the tub full of water...

"That's it!" He said with a smile. He crawled over to the tub and dipped his hands into the water, cupping them. He then turned back to Wade and dumped the water onto his face.

Immediately Wade gasped awake and looked to Peter with wide eyes. "Please tell me I was dreaming." Peter shook his head apologetically, which only made Wade groan. He looked at the naked younger male beside him and sighed, "You need clothes."

Peter felt his cheeks grow warm. "Well, you never gave me any."

"Oh yea-HOLY SHIT! YOUR CHEEKS ARE GREEN!"

Peter's cheeks grew even warmer. "Wh-what?"

"Whoa!" Wade exclaimed as he examined the younger boy's cheeks. "They're a dark green now!" He looked up at the younger male. "How are you doing that?"

Peter blinked. "Uhm, that's the color they turn when I blush?"

"Weird?"

"Why'd you say it like that?"

"Say it like what?" Wade asked.

"Say weird like it was a question?" Peter asked.

"Because you did it with your answer," Wade replied. "Thought I should do it with my answer too."

Peter rolled his eyes, clearly not amused. "Anyway, I, uh, should probably get back to my bath," he said, looking down at the tiles.

Wade cleared his throat and said, "Right." He stood up carefully and scooped up Peter in his arms. He then sat him down in the tub before quickly disappearing once more into the hall.

Peter could feel himself blushing again as he watched Wade leave. The moment he was alone, Peter sank into the water with a loud sigh. He looked down at his legs and closed his eyes. He sighed once more before opening them to find his tail in place of his legs.

He allowed his fins on the end to flick gently before he said, "This is gonna be tough."

Wade sped walked to his bedroom and closed the door. He stood in silence for a moment, listening to the storm outside. Then, quietly, he slid to the floor and whispered, "Holy mother of Trickydick. I have a merman in my bathroom." He nodded and smiled. "Okay. Okay. I may be crazy like Cable suggested." He scrubbed a hand across his face and groaned loudly at the memory of Cable, an old (but oh so amazing) fling of his, calling him crazy right before walking out of his life forever.

"I'm going crazy," he mumbled. "I can see it on my headstone now as my cause of death: Became a prisoner of his greatest foe: his mind." He groaned into his hands.

Despite all of the freaking out, a little boy in the back of his mind cheered at the thought of proving his awful father wrong for the first time. Wade could feel the weight on his shoulders being slowly lifted off.

Finally, Dad was wrong about something.

That was so unbelievably satisfying for him. His father was wrong and it felt amazing. After all of the years of emotional and verbal abuse from his father crushing everything by saying that he was right and Wade was wrong, Wade could finally say, "You are wrong, you piece of shit."

If he were alone, he would cry. But, he had company and he didn't want to explain his red eyes to Peter.

Speaking of which, the thought of the merman (merboy?) made Wade scrub his hand across his face.

"Holy shit."

But it wasn't the time to be freaking out. There would be plenty of time to do that when Peter goes to sleep. Wade needed to figure what to give the kid to wear and figure out where he would sleep.

Wade walked over to his dresser and searched the drawers for sweatpants. He eventually settled upon a pair of large gray drawstrings. He then went to his closet and pulled the first aid kit from the top shelf and held it in the crook of his arm as he searched the closet for a good shirt to let Peter borrow for the night. He decided that a black one with the words "To Punch Your Face or Not To Punch Your Face; That Is Here The Question" would be a good one. His clothes were a little on the big side since he's taller than Peter, but they would work.

Like an evil snake, a dirty thought slithered its way into Wade's mind; Peter wearing the sweatpants, which hung low on his hips, and the large shirt that hung off one of his shoulders as he lay in a seductive position on the couch.

Wade shook his head. "No," he hissed. "Bad mind! The kid is like twelve!" He groaned in irritation as he mentally scolded himself. He was so gonna spend time with later that night to rid his evil thoughts of potential pedophilia.

As if on cue, Peter called for Wade from the bathroom. His voice sounded so small it made Wade wonder what was wrong. He slowly walked to the bathroom (while telling himself to stop being a dirty pedophile) and knocked quietly on the door.

"I'm wet," Peter said from the other side. That went to straight to a place Wade wished he didn't have.

He cleared his throat and said, "Th-there should be a towel hanging on the bar against the wall."

There was the sound of rustling water and fabric being pulled off of metal.

"Thank you," Wade heard Peter say.

"Is it okay for me to come in?" Wade asked.

"Sure."

Wade closed his eyes and told himself to stop being gross. Taking in a deep breath, he opened the door and nearly fainted again at the sight of Peter's tail as the younger boy sat on the toilet seat wiping himself off.

Peter smiled at him. "Don't worry," he said. "It'll go away in a bit."

Wade nodded, eyes stuck on the green tail. He handed Peter the clothes and sat the first aid kit down on the counter. He noticed then that Peter's wound wasn't as bad as he thought since all the blood and dirt was gone. He also noticed how nicely shaped the younger boy's upper body was. He had perfectly shaped shoulders and decently toned abs...Wade mentally cursed at himself. He was heading down a dark path that he did not wish to take.

Apparently, Peter noticed him watching because he asked, "Is there something wrong?" His cheeks were a faint tint of green.

Wade shook his head. "I'm gonna let you get dressed in peace..." Wade left the bathroom as quickly as possible and sunk against the wall in the hallway in shame.

His mind was trapping him in something dangerous. He'd been alone for far too long and he had urges, so it made sense why he was acting this way. But, he really wished it would stop. Peter was a kid and Wade is undoubtedly at least twice the kid's age. So, even though he wanted to do something, he couldn't.

"Wade?" Peter said from the bathroom.

"Yes?" Wade squeaked.

"Uhm, how do you put these on?"

Wade sighed and walked to the bathroom. The moment he had seen Peter leaning against the counter on wobbling legs in nothing but the oversized black shirt that hung off one shoulder, Wade instantly regretted his decision in allowing Peter to stay. The kid was going to be the death of him.

Peter held the sweatpants up and nearly lost his footing. On instinct, Wade caught Peter around the waist, making the both of them blush. He then sat Peter down on the toilet and told him how to put the sweatpants on. Peter carefully slipped into them with Wade looking away.

"Okay," the boy said. "Now what?" He looked down at the large pants hanging off his hips.

"Pull the strings," Wade said, still looking away. "Then tie them."

Peter did as he was told and smiled. "Got it." Wade looked at Peter and quickly examined the tied strings. He gave a nod, which made Peter smile even more.

Wade cleared his throat nervously. Oh yeah, he thought, this kid is gonna kill me.

"How's your head?"

Peter gave a small shrug. "It doesn't sting as bad. But it still hurts." Wade opened the first aid kit on the counter and pulled out an alcohol wipe. He told Peter it would sting and carefully dabbed the tiny gash on the kid's forehead. Immediately, Peter jumped back with a yelp and looked to Wade with frightened eyes.

"I said it would sting," Wade said in defense.

Peter frowned. "I didn't think it would hurt that bad!"

Wade shrugged. "Well, your wound is cleaned now, so," he threw the alcohol wipe away in the trashcan next to the toilet. "You tired?" Peter nodded, still frowning. "Okay," Wade said. "Can you walk?"

"I'll try," Peter said. He attempted to stand, his legs wobbling in the process. He held onto the counter and took baby steps, reminding Wade of Bambi. To help, Wade grabbed the boy's hand and led him to the room. Peter would occasionally lean against Wade for support when his legs wouldn't handle the weight.

When they reached Wade's room, Peter eyed the bed with hunger, his eyes looking more tired with the bed in his sight. "Looks like my sleeping quarters in my home," he said with a hint of sadness laced through his words.

Wade helped Peter into the bed and fought the urge to ravish the kid right then and there. Peter stretched himself across it and arched upwards stretching his back. Wade guiltily watched.

"Thank you," Peter said as he curled up in the sheets.

Wade nodded. "Welcome." He looked around and said, "Get some sleep," and turned out the light before disappearing into the living room.

Like the loner he was, Wade spent the night relieving himself (and making sure Peter stayed out of his fantasies).


End file.
